


Come By It Honestly

by maxsaystowrite



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Jonah is james and elias but is mordecai peter?, Jonny sims gives me a vague time line and old men? Bet, Lonely Eyes, M/M, Multi-Generaltional Lonely Eyes, Oh and uh, idk what else to put here, lots of meta, no beta we die like men, theres explicit sex in this thing because I was in a mood when I started it.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxsaystowrite/pseuds/maxsaystowrite
Summary: Jonah Magnus was a brand new avatar when this all started. Jonah thought things like love might melt away the more powerful he became. But patrons don't cure addictions and so they stick to the soul, even through hundreds of years.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	Come By It Honestly

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a monster of a fic and I think it might actually be the long one I've ever written so like. Have fun. I had to name Peter's father so I did. There are also some sex scenes because idk... I haven't written smut in a minute so sorry in advance.

Moorelabs Manor was a huge monstrous building that stood out from the trees around it when you could see it. The building was obviously cursed. From the mixed matched design of the exterior to the horrendously tacky interior. It also had the Lukas family charm upon it. The building may be a physically imposing eyesore, but the spirit of it was so far off and secluded that the Lukases didn't even need to sacrifice their convenience. The Manor was an isolating hell hole of a home. A labyrinth of hallways and doors, ceilings so high they looked like they reached the clouds. 

It almost made Jonah second guess their patron. Perhaps the spiral was their true calling. Nonetheless, the Lukases lived here, all alone. And Jonah was enthralled with the lives they try to lead. Everything about the house dripped of unnecessary wealth. It was clear to Jonah that they had always been a servant to the lonely. The decor was bare of any religious imagery that Christian's loved so much. And what better way to show wealth than a giant golden cross above the mantle. But the Lukas' had none of it. Forced to have florals and drab baroque down the walls. He found a menorah or two, but he knew they weren't used. No wax dripping down the sides. Just solid gold polished to perfection. 

"Magnus, was it?" Jonah was snapped out of his snooping by a man with milky white eyes and a midnight complexion. There was a young boy with him. But he didn't say anything. The older man just had a hand on his shoulder. 

"Ah, and you must be Mr. Rayner," Jonah said, extending his hand. Rayner took his hand and gave it a hearty shake. "I had wondered if I was going to meet you here."

Rayner let out a laugh. "Yes, it seems I can never refuse an invitation from the Lukas family. They throw such extravagant parties simply because they have too much money not to. The food is always good. Never had to pay for a drink."

Jonah nodded politely and tried to retain any sort of conversation with him. But the white of his eyes unnerved him. His own eyes burned at the sight. 

"Have you had a chance to meet our host?" Rayner asked. Finally, something less dull than scotch prices. And another avatar was definitely something on his list of things to find in this house. 

"I was under the impression that I wasn't going to see any of the Lukases tonight," Jonah said. "This whole affair seems out of character and now I might be granted the pleasure of  _ meeting  _ the host?"

Rayner had a grin on that was almost creepy. Jonah wasn't easily shaken. He was still staring with those eyes. "Well. If you're invited you should be able to greet your host. At least for a short while. They normally make the rounds an hour or so into it all. And then they'll retire into their private rooms all the while we'll trash this Manor so thoroughly that the servants won't get a chance to sleep before sunrise." 

"Is that a normal going-on at a Lukas family party?" Jonah asked. "I can't wait to see that."

There was a twitch in Rayner's eye. "Funny you say it that way," a glint now, he was looking closer. "What was your  _ affiliation _ again?"

"With the Lukas family?" Jonah countered. There was a pressing into him. Something close to a familiar sensation. 

"You know my meaning, Magnus."

Jonah snickered to himself. Patience was not a virtue to the Dark, it seemed. " **Who are you affiliated with, Mr. Rayner?** " Jonah pressed, it was good practice.

Rayner bit back a growl as he let out a sharp exhale. "I have found my home in glorious darkness. I take solace in the all-encompassing void. I find it more comforting than the ever brightness of this world." He shifted in his suit and swallowed hard. "I think, that, uh. That answered my question." 

"Did it now?" Jonah pressed his tongue against his cheek and twisted the wine glass in his hand. Jonah was mocking him and Rayner knew that. He was about to say something, to bite back.

And then, a tall, looming man came to them, creating a triangle. His eyes were light and his hair long and greying at the temples. He had a beard that didn't leave his face, trimmed and neat. Jonah immediately turned him and grinned. 

"Mr. Magnus, I presume," the man said. He reached out a hand and Jonah took it. "Mordecai Lukas." 

"A pleasure," Jonah said. 

"The pleasure is all mine. We haven't had the beholding here in quite a while." Mordecai said, so nonchalant and free. Jonah was impressed and intrigued. "The beholding is just so  _ picky _ . I'm surprised you were picked within the century. You must be quite the... Watcher."

Jonah blinked at him as anger boiled inside of him. "I am more of a  _ knowledge _ -based devotee."

"Are you now?" Mordecai asked. "What university did you attend? 

" Oxford." He said quickly. "I attended Oxford."

Mordecai's eyes lingered on him, studying him up and down. Jonah did not appreciate being on the other side of things. "Of course."

  
  


“B-But our line of work isn’t really taught in university walls, now is it?” Jonah asked, giving his host a look up and down himself. “You can’t  _ learn _ loneliness. It has to be felt, doesn’t it? It has to be… Given.”

Mordecai raised an eyebrow. “What an interesting notion, Mr. Magnus.” Mordecai stepped closer to Jonah, his height taking full effect. Jonah had to look up to him. “Are you saying that avatars inherit their powers? From our Patron or a similar line?”

“Of course. We don’t develop them on our own. We have to be given them, to begin with. We may strengthen them but they’re never quite our own. We always have to remember how we’ve come into ourselves.” Jonah said, eyes flicking to Rayner who had gone silent since his forced statement. “And then we cling to our powers through multiple bodies because we can't just let ourselves go."

Rayner sneered. "I think I saw a Fairchild that I forgot to greet. Please excuse me."

"Come now, Rayner, I was just having fun! I also want my consciousness to be passed down endlessly and incessantly in a cycle of prolonging the inevitable!" Jonah called after Rayner as he walked away. He snickered to himself. 

Mordecai also let out a laugh and Jonah grinned up at him with a coy smile. "I think I made an enemy of the dark," Jonah said between laughs. "Though, I think the Dark is a natural enemy of the Beholding, the Eye." Jonah took a drink. "I can't see in the dark."

"Careful, Mr. Magnus, you don't want to feed the wrong patron," Mordecai warned. 

"Not feeding… just pondering."

Mordecai looked at Jonah at again, from head to toe, sizing him up. Jonah pretended not to notice. But he noticed  _ everything. _ Especially when a man looked at him like that. He reached forward with his mind. Mordecai spoke up. 

"Would you like to go somewhere more private? So we can talk without worry?" Mordecai leaned down to Jonah's ear, sending a chill down his spine. "You never know who's watching." 

Jonah licked his lips. “And where do you suggest we go, Mr. Lukas.”

“This is my house. I have many rooms. I could take you to my study, my library, my bedchamber, my drawing-room. Anywhere really.” Mordecai said, he slipped the wine glass from Jonah’s hand, placing it on the tray of a walking by server, pulling another drink from the same tray.

Jonah took the new glass without question. “Anywhere you want to take me, I’ll go.”

“Then follow my lead.” Mordecai insisted. He was off without another word. He was quiet about it. He was tiptoeing through a wave of people who didn't seem to see him. Jonah could barely keep an eye on him. 

As they separated themselves he noticed that the other faces started to blur, it became a room with only them inside it, white fog filling the room completely. Jonah stretched his eye to keep a hold on Mordecai. It was easier than he thought. He assumed it was because of his powers. He wasn't looking at just Mordecai. He was looking into the lonely.  _ This is how they always leave,  _ ran across his mind. 

At first, Jonah thought he had been taken to a study.  _ Might have read him wrong then, _ as he looked upon the couches and tables. The room itself was much larger than anticipated, a whole section off to the right. That's where the bed, the chest of drawers, and the wardrobe was hiding. The bed was bigger than anyone that Jonah had ever seen, with thick quilts and pillows piled on top of it. 

"My private chamber," Mordecai said. "No one would interrupt us here."

"If they could follow us," Jonah said, dragging the conversation into a more casual one and watching Mordecai squirm. "We made quite the getaway back there, not to mention the maze of this place."

Jonah sat himself down on the couch that faced the bed. His eyes flicked from there to Mordecai frequently. 

"Yes well, that's all in the design of the place." Mordecai circled for a bit, stopping at the mantle to ponder. "My ancestors wanted to make sure we always felt the hand of our patron pressing down on us. They thought this was the optimal environment for breeding followers of the Lonely."

"Raise them in it so they learn to love it," Jonah said. "What a wonderfully cruel way to raise children."

"You'd call it cruel?" Mordecai asked, turning fully to Jonah. "To give children a path from birth? So that they are not lost to this world?"

Jonah thought for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. "There is a moment in every human's life where they find exactly who they are and where they belong and I don't think I'd want to take that away from someone. When I learned of the Beholding, when I started this all, there was a moment of such revelation and clarity… it was amazing to finally see the world as it is."

Mordecai had moved during his speech, creeping ever closer to him. He sat down next to Jonah on the couch that was really too small for two. 

"Us Lukases still have those experiences. I remember when I was told of our family's history and our way of life. It was such a calming experience to know that I've felt this loneliness for a reason. That we were chosen to seclude. We were meant to have this existence. We were chosen to be alone." Mordecai had such a look in his eye. He was passionate about his place in all this. He wondered what would happen if Mordecai attempted a ritual. And if it failed. 

Jonah sat back on the couch, sprawling out slightly, knocking his knee into Mordecai's. "No wonder the Lonely has such a fondness for you. You love it so. I'm sure you feed it well."

"I always have a full stomach."

A hand slipped on Jonah's knee and he looked up to his host with a devilish smile. 

"Mr. Lukas, I thought you were married." Jonah gasped in feigned surprise at it all. 

"Oh... the loneliness she feels when he takes another man back to a bed they could be sharing." And there it was, the third-person narration and the distance behind Mordecai's eye. The part of him that wasn't human and would never be again. The part that Mordecai received from his father. And the part he'll pass on to his son. 

Jonah closed the gap between the two and kissed Mordecai with every bit of excitement he felt from a new lover and this new life he was going to start. Of course, no one had to sleep with an avatar to be one, but the  _ information _ he could provide made his mouth water. 

Mordecai tasted the delicious loneliness on Jonah's tongue too, the prospect of being a tramp on the side did not appeal to the human side of Jonah. And the human side was so much more alive and fragile now than it will ever be again. Mordecai pressed harder onto Jonah, pushing a knee between his thighs. He could feel Jonah's longing already. 

Mordecai pushed his hands under Jonah's waistband, under all his layers. His hands were cold and distant and Jonah wondered if that was a side effect of being an avatar, or at least, the Lonely's. And as Mordecai wrapped a hand around him he knew the answer. It was both. The Lonely was an understandably cold fear, no one to share any heat with. But Mordecai also had cold hands from birth. An early mark of the Lonely. 

"You could ask anything you'd like," Mordecai said against Jonah's mouth and he grinned into it.

"But that distracts your mouth from the task at hand," Jonah said before connecting their mouths again. He kissed Mordecai desperately. Taboo was always a word on his tongue. It was just a word, one with power and deep meaning, ancient meaning. And at this point, fucking a man was the least taboo thing about Jonah. 

A cold hand gripped Jonah suddenly, causing him to gasp. "Are you going to be in your head the whole time?"

Jonah blinked back into the moment. "What did you expect? Have you never had another avatar before?"

Mordecai laughed, at his accusation and the fact that he already considered himself a fully-fledged avatar. "You need to mind the way you speak to me."

  
  


" Do I now? "

With a quick motion, Mordecai's hand was gone and Jonah was being lifted from his seat. Mordecai lifted him from his thighs as if he had weighed nothing, gripping as tightly as possible. Jonah grinned and took the opportunity to tower over Mordecai, he bent down to grasp his face in another kiss. Short-lived, Jonah moved from his mouth to his jaw, biting down on the soft skin. 

Mordecai let out a dark moan as Jonah sucked a dark purple mark at the very edge of his jaw, where it meets his neck. He made several marks all in equally inconvenient places, next to his Adam’s apple, at the base of his neck. Though, none of it stayed. No purple marks for the morning to broadcast what they had done.

"You certainly like using that mouth of yours," Mordecai said, dropping Jonah onto the bed in front of them. He crawled over him in an instant. "Does it do anything else?"

Jonah grinned as he made quick work of Mordecai's trousers, throwing them to the side as the useless material things they are, and Mordecai took great joy in shredding Jonah's clothes off of him. They repositioned, Mordecai was sitting up by the mountain of plush pillows and Jonah was on his stomach and between his legs. 

Mordecai's cock stood tall and bright with an aching strain. Jonah's mouth started to water again as he wrapped his lips around the head, making sure it was nice and warm before pressing his tongue to the slit, gathering up every bit that leaked out. Mordecai was breathing steadily but only just. 

He reached for Jonah's head, lacing his fingers within his hair. No pulling or pushing. Just a gentle weaving, he played with his hair as Jonah sank further down him. The touch was so light and tender Jonah wasn't sure it was happening. It surprised him so much he almost stopped. Almost. 

Jonah kept his tongue flat against the underside of Mordecai's prick as he swallowed him whole. Jonah could feel every twitch and every jump in pulse he had. When his lips touched his base he sat there. And Mordecai kept him there. Fingers entwined with hair, a slight pressure to keep Jonah just there. It was a position Jonah was familiar with and a favorite of his. But when he was ready, he was ready. 

He started humming a tune around Mordecai, causing him to groan with pleasure. And then he allowed him to move, pulling lightly at Jonah's hair to get him started. The speed and the motion that Jonah took made Mordecai grip his hair with an unnatural strength. His thighs grew cold again and Jonah felt him lose control. At least minutely. 

Mordecai let out a noise that was so low it sounded like a growl. Jonah tensed up for a moment and any semblance of power over Mordecai he had was gone in an instant. His hair was pulled so he hung back, straining his neck. Mordecai began fucking his throat blindly, using Jonah for his own pleasure. And he simply relaxed through it. Loving the feeling of just being there to service another man. 

Though, Jonah did reach down to touch himself, trying to time his motions with Mordecai's. And when that was in sync he began playing with his own entrance. No oil to help so he just teased the rim, barely pushing in. It still sent jolts of pleasure down his legs. 

A part of Mordecai liked that. Jonah needing to take his pleasure into his own hands, the lonely feeling of being used and then having to get yourself off. But the other part reached down immediately and swatted both hands away from their tasks. 

"You're more impatient than I thought. The Beholding likes the long game Jonah, and so should you." With all the strength in his arm, Mordecai flung Jonah backward onto the bed. 

"I  _ know _ you liked it." Jonah countered weakly, he was too busy watching Mordecai reach into his nightstand for the vile of oil he kept there.

A chill ran down Jonah's spine in anticipation of the gift he was about to receive. His legs spread open out of pure excitement. Mordecai turned back with a devilish smile. 

"Now, would you like me to prepare you? Or would you like to carry on as you were?"

"No," Jonah answered a little too quickly. "I want you to do it." A flash of disappointment flashed in Mordecai's eyes. The bastard wanted Jonah to feel alone even in the middle of sex. But Jonah wouldn't allow it. He'd rather appeal to Mordecai's more human side, at least for the moment. 

"Fine then," Mordecai said, removing the cork and letting the liquid ooze out onto his fingers. He warmed it up slightly between them before reaching down to Jonah's entrance, slowly rubbing the muscles open. "I think you might take me easy, Mr. Magnus."

"I haven't been a virgin in a long time, Mr. Lukas," Jonah promised. He breathed in with every additional finger, feeling every tiny movement Mordecai decided to make. Mordecai had three fingers in when he started to spread them apart and curl them. 

"Ah! M-Mordecai p-please."

Mordecai turned red in the face at the use of his first name. It caught him off guard more than it should have. He blushed, he felt a new rush of exhilaration. "How intimate  _ Jonah _ ," his name dripped off his tongue like honey, sweet and sticky. Mordecai twisted his fingers and thrust them forward. 

Jonah let out a cry and his lips spread into a grin. He tried to force his hips back onto Mordecai's fingers, to have him hit that spot within him again. But Mordecai places a firm hand on his hip to steady him. 

"Is this not intimate enough for me to use your first name?"

Mordecai reached his fingers deep again and pressed the tips to his prostate, keeping the pressure there. Jonah was getting lost in it, head going foggy and legs spasming without control. 

"I've fucked plenty of people who were only allowed to call me sir." A pointed press came from the word  _ sir _ . And Jonah let out another shout. 

"I'm not bloody calling you sir! Just fuck me already Lukas!"

All the pressure inside of him was gone in an instant. Jonah was able to see clearly and found Mordecai hovering on top of him, leering down maliciously. 

"You're lucky I like a brat, Magnus," Mordecai said milliseconds before he pushed into Jonah. He gasped and grabbed the footboard behind his head. The burn felt so good as Mordecai pushed deeper and deeper into him. Jonah licked his lips and grinned up at Mordecai. His eyes were closed as he sank into him. 

Something about this moment made Jonah even more excited and he wondered if he could keep Mordecai's eyes closed the whole time. 

When Mordecai reached his hilt, he squeezed Jonah's waist. A small question.  _ Can I move? _ Jonah wasn't sure why he suddenly went nonverbal but it reminded him of the small gentleness of fingers in his hair. The affection of a lonely man. A self-made lonely man. It was positively addicting. 

"You can move, dear."

There was no hesitation, no moment to register. Mordecai started moving with slow hips and then had a tight grasp on Jonah. Hard and possessive. He pulled Jonah close to him in time with his thrusts, forcing them to meet as Mordecai began to slam into him. Every motion and every time their hips met Jonah cried out in utter bliss, the feeling of Mordecai inside him was enough to drive him wild. Jonah was nearly blind with every thrust. He always seemed to hit exactly where Jonah needed. 

" _ Fuck _ Mordecai!" Jonah whined. "I-I'm at my edge."

Mordecai pulled him up then, so they were close and his lips were grazing Jonah's ear. Instinctively, Jonah wrapped his arms around his neck. "Then come for me, Jonah. Like you want to."

There was nothing inherently alluring in his voice. Nothing altered. Just a soft roll of his voice. But Jonah couldn't help but come with a scream. He tightened around Mordecai as he spilled all over their stomachs and chests. And in that same moment, Jonah could see exactly what was in Mordecai's mind. 

_ I want to do this over and over again _ .

It almost made his orgasm better, the peering into Mordecai's mind, the knowledge that he had been satisfied, the knowledge that Jonah has this over Mordecai. It was almost cause for a second.

Jonah was still riding out his own bliss as Mordecai came to his end. He watched Jonah's face as he came, just a habit of his, it normally fed the beast deep inside him to think that the person under him had no more use for him, had no more thought of him. But Jonah watched back and it sent a chill down his spine. Something floated around in his mind as he was sent over the edge. Something about how of course the Beholding would be watching. Another chill and anticipation for a second, a third, a fourth, countless more times rooted itself deep into his bones. 

  
  


Jonah grinned up at him. "What am I to do about my ruined clothes?"

"Take some of mine. My wife will hate it and you'd simply  _ have _ to return them to me."

*

Jonah woke up in a warm room, sleep still dragging at his eyes, begging him to come back. But he had to wake up. He swatted at the plush blankets around him, in order to see Mordecai in his favorite chair. He would have been bathed in sunlight if he let the curtains draw. Instead, there was a thin striking line that caught him right below the eyes. He was already dressed and was reading a book bound in leather. 

_ Escapism and the Lonely doesn't seem like a good pair. _ Jonah thought to himself. And he reached gently with his mind's eye. It was a book on hunting. More specifically, a book on the Hunt. It had specific language for those who understood. But a good guide to Hunting for the ignorant. 

"Good morning, Jonah," Mordecai said, not looking up from the page. "You know I could just lend you the book. You don't need to read it off me."

"But that doesn't have the added pleasure of being inside your mind," Jonah said, adding a small whine at the end. He rolled over to his stomach, exposing more of his naked body to the air and to Mordecai. He lifted his eye for just a moment, then went back to his book. 

"I allow you to wake up in my bed time and time again. What more pleasure do you need?" Mordecai asked simply. 

Jonah groaned. "Come now, Mordecai. You've indulged in my little… fantasies before. What's a harmless one like this?"

" I suppose it's the cheapest quirk you've been able to come up with," Mordecai said. 

Jonah's ears perked up. "Well if we're talking  _ money _ -"

"For the last time, I will not fund your trip around the world in order to  _ learn everything, _ " Mordecai rolled his eyes and then lifted them to glare at Jonah.

Jonah shot up onto his elbows. "I was not going to ask for that… again. I have a different venture that, if done correctly, could also benefit you."

"A mutually beneficial endeavor. Excuse me if I don't believe you." Mordecai said, all the while he was closing his book. 

Jonah grinned and sat up completely. "Yes, well, I'll have to do my best at convincing you."

"Alright then, go on and convince me."

  
  


Jonah started his rehearsed speech, explaining what a marvelous thing an  _ Institute _ might be, for the both of them. Jonah described this idealistic archive of everything the Patrons were doing. Jonah couldn't help his stomach from rumbling at the thought of all the information they’d gather. All the knowledge stored in first-hand statements. 

Mordecai sat through the proposal, making notes in the margins of his book. He  _ knew  _ that bothered Jonah and almost let a grin slip from it. 

"I don't understand how this is beneficial for me in the slightest, Magnus."

Jonah clenched his jaw.  _ Just business.  _ "Think about the possibilities, you'll be the first to know if another entity is planning something, a ritual."

"No,  _ you'll  _ be the first to know."

Jonah crawled out of bed, standing finally. He let himself be admired by Mordecai for a moment. 

_ He is certainly the most beautiful of my lovers. _ Jonah heard in his head. It was easy to hear others without even trying now. The thought made Jonah almost blush. And he would have if he was younger. But he wasn't, and this was business.

Jonah moved over to Mordecai and draped his arms around his neck, straddling his waist. Mordecai placed his book to the side and placed his hands instinctively on Jonah's hips, where they always went. 

"And as my business partner, I'll report immediately to you with that information. Do you not trust me?" Jonah was looking down at him, pleading eyes, half-lidded as he wavered ever closer to Mordecai's lips, looking between the two. 

"Not as far as I can throw you, my dear," Mordecai said, craning his neck upwards for a kiss. 

But Jonah pulled back suddenly, leaving Mordecai disoriented and cold. There was a look in his eye that made Jonah grin. A far off look of loneliness, the loneliness of being strung along. Of a relationship only being held up by the strings tied to them. 

"Then I guess we're through, Mr. Lukas," Jonah said abruptly, throwing his legs off of Mordecai's lap, being sure to drag his hands down his chest first. Then, a quick retracting of hands. Jonah went to one of the piles of clothes he only assumed was his. 

Mordecai blinked in his chair, head still spinning. "Don't be dramatic, Jonah. Come back here." He demanded. 

"No," Jonah said, pointed, as he pulled on his underpants. "Our arrangement has suited us fine until now. But the moment I ask for a very reasonable quid pro quo, you throw it all away. You say you don't trust me? Fine then. You don't have to." Jonah began buttoning his shirt and even put on his vest before Mordecai fully realized it.

_ He's serious. _

Jonah turned away, feigning a search for his trousers when he really didn't want Mordecai to see his grin. Thoughts echo in his head now, without much pressing. Half the time it's like tapping into a radio signal. The one broadcasting had no idea he was listening. Always listening. 

Mordecai scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Jonah. His heart was in his chest, beating rapidly. "This doesn't mean you have to leave, Jonah. We don't need an Institute in order for us to-"

"For us to what?" Jonah asked simply. He wasn't actually mad about their arrangement. Mordecai was a good fuck and produced some good information. But Jonah was a good actor. He knew how to get what he wanted. He knew how to make a man feel lonely. "You can't marry me, Mordecai. I don't get a pretty ring or a different last name. You get to fuck me and cheat on your wife and feed off of all of that and what do I get? A sore arse in the morning? Fuck off, Mordecai." 

Jonah didn't even bother with the rest of his clothes. He gathered what he could and stormed towards the door. It didn't matter though, Mordecai called out.

"Jonah,  _ wait! _ " 

Mordecai had taken his hand, a desperate act from a desperate man. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't think. He didn't know if it was the foggy mist of the Lonely creeping into him or if it was the genuine panic of losing Jonah. Mordecai didn't know. He's never had this attachment to another person before. He had never felt this fear. 

And Jonah grinned again, the grin that Mordecai cannot see. Jonah twitched his hand and then yanked it away. He laid his hand on the door, ready to push it open. 

"Please, Jonah." 

Jonah heard his knees fall to the floor before he felt Mordecai's hands fist into his trousers. Mordecai pressed his forehead to the small of Jonah's back. 

"Don't..."

"Don't what, Mordecai?"

"Don't leave me alone, Jonah." 

*

The Institute was founded. Of course, it was, it was the greatest monument to a Patron ever created. And it was all hidden in plain sight, in a particularly dreary section of London proper. A small touch for his favorite donor. That and a hallway or two named after the Lukas Family. Thanking them for their generous contributions. 

Jonah and Mordecai aged at the same pace. It was easy to prolong a life, so long as they get enough energy from their Patron. Their bodies could extend longer than a normal body, a human body. 

Though, they are of the flesh. 

Mordecai expired first. He was always the older of the two, it was bound to happen. Jonah wasn't there when he died. And he didn't want to be there. He heard from a Fairchild that the moment it happened, a white haze escaped his mouth. A ghoulish sight to anyone who might have witnessed it. Just a rumor though, Mordecai asked to die alone. 

Jonah didn't die at all. Not really. Jonah Magnus had a funeral though. Burying someone who was not him. 

Despite his stance when he first became an avatar, as death and decay started its journey towards him, Jonah began looking for a way out, a way around death itself. He knew there was a way. Rayner disposed of bodies even if they weren't on the end of the line. He just needed to find it. He needed to find the Beholding's way.

He found it within a book of poetry. An American poet in 1709 wrote a small verse.  _ Eyes like yours I can see forever in.  _ It was intended to be a love poem. But it gave Jonah an idea.

There was a head of the Institute. He was more of a figurehead than anything, to run things when Jonah was supposed to retire. He was a boring man with no one to pay any real attention to him. 

So Jonah decided to try his little theory. There was something satisfying about it, popping out another's eyes. They deflated with a wet snap and oozed out blood and other gore Jonah was almost delighted in seeing. It felt even better when he replaced them with his own. Jonah's blue eyes standing out against his now olive skin. 

Jonah was disoriented through the change of perspective. He saw his own body on the ground and heard his employee's voice inside his head, louder than usual, and more first hand. He had taken him by surprise, a sudden attack. This mind wasn't ready for a transfer like this. And when Jonah blinked with his new eyelids, he felt the tendrils of his optic nerve reaching and rooting into this new brain. Every little movement it made tickled his new senses. 

There was a splitting headache behind his eyes for the first month.  _ Next time _ , Jonah thought,  _ I'll get a willing participant. _

With a booming furiousness, he heard.  **_NEXT TIME?!_ **

*

A generation or two of incompatible avatars passed while Jonah perfected his selection method. It didn't take too long but, like everything, there was trial and error. 

When James Wright met Abraham, Jonah felt like himself again. It was a similar night to when Jonah first stepped foot in the Lukas Family Manor. It was the first function Jonah had James toting him around. James was the tallest he's ever been, more conventionally attractive than his other bodies. It seems archival work doesn't often call to the beautiful. Brown curly hair and warm original eyes. 

"Mr. Wright, I presume." A shiver ran down James' spine hearing the deep rumbling of Abraham's voice for the first time. James turned to Abraham and there was such a moment of deja vu. Abraham was still taller than him. He was always taller than him. Abraham had the same dark hair that Mordecai had, though, it was lighter, more feathery than Mordecai's. And his eyes, they were kinder. A Hazel color that reminded James of fall leaves just starting to turn. "Abraham Lukas."

"A pleasure," James echoed. 

There was a knowing smile on Abraham's lips. "It's so good to have the new face of the Beholding here. I was worried you'd still be ill," he said, his eyes traveling up and down his entirety. 

"Yes, well, this… cold was easier to get over than previous. It helps to have a cooperative host." James said. " This one even said please."

"What a surprise. Is that the key to a speedy recovery?"

James grinned. "It was more of a bad hangover than a terminal disease."

Abraham took a glass from a nearby server and raised it. "Well then, let's replicate that sensation, shall we? There is a lot to celebrate."

James raised his half-empty glass. "Here's to well bodies and minds." James cocked an eyebrow up as he took a sip of his drink. 

Abraham raised his in turn. "To happy marriage and a long life." 

James nearly choked on his brandy. " Marriage?!"

_ He's married?! _

**_He's going to be._ **

Abraham swallowed his drink. "Yes, this is my engagement party. Did you honestly think a Lukas would throw a party for fun?"

"I seem to remember many Lukas parties that do not celebrate your betrothal," James said. There was a strange feeling in his heart and in his head. A feeling of jealousy and frustration. 

Abraham sighed a bit and looked into his glass as he swirled what was left of it. "Us Lukases have to keep going," he shot the last bit back. "No matter what we really desire." Abraham locked eyes with James.

"Does it have to be you?" James asked. 

"I am the oldest," Abraham said. "So it is preferable. But then again, if I hadn't shown any inclination for the lonely then I would have been removed. It seems I'm the most attuned of my siblings and cousins."

"I see…" James said, looking down at his feet.

Abraham shrugged. " But as the head of the family, I also uphold the… business arrangement between the family and the institute."

James flicked his eyes up and Abraham had an awkward smile on his face with a faint blush across his nose and cheeks. "And you'll be married within the year?"

Abraham let out a laugh. "You're very hung up on this. I wasn't told about any hesitation you've had before."

Jonah almost spat up an answer, nearly taking hold completely. But James swallowed the voice that was not his and Jonah made a note of it. "My predecessors never took issue with it. I… however… am having difficulties."

"Are you…" Abraham looked confused. He looked distraught, mouth agape and eyes widened. "Can you… talk for yourself, James?"

"It's complicated," James said. "Just know that the wishes of Jonah Magnus are not my only influence."

Abraham bowed his head slightly and raised a hand. "Well then, it's very good to meet  _ you _ , James."

James took his hand and shook it. "Likewise, Abraham." 

Abraham's grip lingered on James' before releasing his hand. "I know this arrangement isn't ideal for you, but, would you still like to talk about the nature of it  _ privately _ ?" Abraham nodded his head towards what James and Jonah both knew was the family's head's bedroom. 

James looked at Abraham, his face was soft and wondering. There was no pressure to comply. James, of course, wasn't afraid of what this entailed. He knew that polite society was behind him. He knew he'd have to do things he was uncomfortable with. He knew that human sensibilities had no place here. But the kindness in Abraham's eyes made it so much easier to make horrible decisions. 

"Of course."

*

The problem with thoroughbreds is that they're weak. While they were young, James and Abraham their love affair was wild and free and they had spent their downtime in each other's arms. And then their bodies grew older. And then their minds changed. 

The Lukas family was riddled with weak genes, especially when it comes to those who cannot handle their family calling. Abraham had always been softer than his father, his grandfather, his great grandfather, and all the rest of the Avatars Jonah had known. Abraham had a weaker mind, he was easier to break. He was easier to lose. 

"James, do you ever feel, I don't know, used?"

James blinked at Abraham. This man had been more his than the last. But the Lonely didn't have a good grip on him. He picked a good wife. He was more prey than anything else at this point. The Jonah in James still had a taste for the lonely's favorite family though, and here they were. James had to watch him decay into this. 

"Not at all," James said, placing his teacup to his lips. 

Abraham glared at him. "Not  _ Jonah _ . I’m talking to just James."

James scrunched his nose up and thought for a moment. It was a muddled thing, their consciousness. Jonah was not a haze of black smoke like Rayner. Jonah had his eyes in another's skull. It was less of a replacement than it was a melding. There was a James and a Jonah. And there was a third, like-minded person that prevailed into the world. 

James spoke, with coaching from Jonah, then. "No, I don't feel used. I have a purpose, I'm still me, after it all."

Abraham groaned and gripped his hair. "How can you not feel  _ drained _ from it all? How could you not feel completely stopped of your own will?"

"Because I wanted this," James said. He watched Abraham as he started to scream and yank at his hair. He licked his lips as Abraham melted before him. 

"There's fog in my throat. Can't you see it? Can you even hear me? I can hardly breathe. There's fog in my head and in my eyes. I can hardly see you, James."

Abraham reached for James' hand. Abraham screamed again and this time, no, he couldn't hear him. He just watched the fog pour out of his mouth.  _ Fascinating _ , James thought. 

James placed his teacup and saucer down on the side table. He stood and went over to Abraham, lifting his head to look up at him. The fog was over his eyes. There was a strange feeling within him. This man was suffering, begging for him, calling out to him. There was a love there that James tiptoed around. Abraham was less Lukas than the previous.

And yet, Jonah's heart reached out like Abraham's. James thought about how complicated it must be. To have Abraham love him along with Jonah. While Jonah was looking for Mordecai in Abraham. 

"It's alright, dear. Because I see you." James said. He leaned down to kiss the man blinded by his own loneliness. The kiss burned Abraham's lips with a searing heat that reminded him of the lightless flame. Abraham was beginning to thaw. 

He stood then, scooping up James's face in his hands and pressing their mouths as close as possible. James parted his lips in the kiss, open for Abraham to explore. There was a hunger and desperation in the kiss. Abraham gripped at James' warmth, aching to feel human again. 

And James let it happen. James allowed Abraham's hands to wander wherever they needed. He let Abraham touch whatever he needed. He allowed Abraham to take what he needed. 

James had tried to separate himself from what happened between them now. He tried to will away his cravings for those cold hands, he tried not to think about how he preferred when Abraham was still in his bed in the morning. He wanted to think that this was all part of the job, the avatar of the Beholding had this agreement with the avatar of the Lonely. It was a contract it was business. He wanted to go back to when this was all an arrangement.

But then Abraham's eyes would find him at night and he'd look back, he looks for him in his vast loneliness. He'd peer into the fog and the nothingness to find him. James would do anything for Abraham if he asked.

And James believed that it was he who loved Abraham. Not Jonah. Not a yearning beholding for a lonely watcher. James had a thick crop of curly brown hair and long eyelashes. His beard scratched his chin when they kissed and Abraham pleas for his company shot a thrill down his spine. James enjoyed a starved Abraham ravishing him whenever he got the chance. 

He believed he loved Abraham and only Abraham. James didn't know Mordecai, James had no care for him. He didn't know about his light lonely eyes. He didn't watch Mordecai's hair go from greyed temples to a head of white. He knew these things happened but he didn't care. 

James only cared about Abraham and his hands on him. He cared about his cold lips trailing down his stomach. He cared about his needy breath on the most vulnerable part of him. He cared about his ability to see into the Lonely through his mind. 

"I can never seem to get warm enough," Abraham whispered into James' ear and a shiver went down James' spine. "There it is, you shudder when I touch you." Abraham's hands slid down the back of James' pants, cupping his ass with one hand. "And I don't want to make you go numb." There was a bite to the spot of James' neck, right below his ear. 

James' breath hitched and he gripped the back of Abraham's head, lacing his fingers in the strands of his soft hair. "You won't make me numb," James whispered back.  **_That's not how anything works_ ** , Jonah yelled inside his head. But he was able to swallow it.

Abraham slid his free hand down the other leg of James' pants, shimmying the pants down completely. With another swift motion, Abraham tore open James' shirt, causing him to gasp. 

"I'll buy you a new one," Abraham said against James' mouth as he captured him in another kiss. 

"You don't need to spoil me, Abraham," James said against his lips. James pushed his own hands into Abraham's shirt, feeling for his bare chest and the hair that lined it. 

Abraham laughed against him. "I never said anything about spoiling," he grasped the edges of his shirt and pulled it over his head and threw it away. "Merely replacing something I broke." Abraham pulled him closer by the thighs and started to press himself against James. "But I'd spoil you If that's what you want."

James moaned as their hips started to move together. The friction sent sparks of pleasure down his legs, making them weak, it was hard for him to stand. Abraham caught him as his legs gave out from under him. He lifted James by his ass and James instinctively wrapped his arms around Abraham's neck. 

Abraham had a perfect view of James' exposed collar bone, immediately pressing his face to the smooth skin. He made quick work of marking the taut bones with bright purple dots. They hesitate in fading away. It's a mark from another entity, should it not stay? But they were light and filled with affection, not malice. Like there are no patrons of love and hope, there aren't bruises of lust and desire that can withstand the healing power of crippling fear. 

"You're my only solace in this world," Abraham said and James sighed in response. Abraham was finally taking off his remaining layers. "My family, my wife, my children. They're all alone. They all removed themselves from me. I don't have anyone else. I just have you."

It was such a lonely thing to say. And James felt the weight of it. The uncomfortable neediness of him, the weight of being someone's "only". James remembered in his human life when people would claim him like that, he'd run. Afraid of commitment and forever. But now forever was his reality and the biggest commitment had already been made. By the both of them. 

James was a servant of the eye first, he knew that. They both knew that. 

"We should run away together," Abraham said as he laid James down on the couch. And James knew he was going to say it. It was so loud in his mind even before Abraham said it. It thundered like a headache and squeezed his heart until James couldn't feel anymore. "Leave this all behind. Leave them all behind. We could be good together. Maybe on the coast."

_ Alone _ , James saw into Abraham's mind, saw the little cottage he imagined, saw their life together, saw exactly what Abraham wanted.  _ You can take the man from the Lukas Manor but you can't take the Lukas out of the man. _

An incredibly lonely stinging sight it was. Them surrounded by nothing and no one, alone in this house. Alone with someone is still alone. 

"We can't," James said, his breathing became heavy as he felt a hand near his entrance. James was so busy in his mind, he didn't see Abraham reach for the lube. "That's impossible." 

"We were made to be like this," Abraham said as he pushed a finger into James. He writhed for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling again. "We can reverse it, I can take your eyes, you'll be just you and we'll be happy. I'll take care of you."

James shouted as Abraham pressed in another finger, not from pain, but in fear. James watched Abraham lick his lips and saw the fog in his irises. He was offering to feed off of him for the rest of his days. He was offering to kill him, to remove him. He was offering a way out. 

With a third finger, James began to rock onto his hand, desperate for any other sensation. Abraham met him with the thrusts of his fingers, pressing hard into James, making sure he felt it. Before long, Abraham was pushing his cock into him, not taking too much time to stretch him. 

"James... You always feel so good..." Abraham muttered into James' ear.

James didn't answer, he was far off in the feeling of Abraham moving inside of him all alongside his peering into Abraham's mind. There were moments of their intimacy on repeat. Those were at least the thoughts easiest to get to. There were scenes on James making noises and moving in certain ways that Abraham was trying to recreate. 

He replicated them, even if he wasn't sure he felt it. 

Deeper in Abraham's mind he found the lonely days of a Lukas being spent in his room or lost wandering the halls.  **_How does one find a room so particular again? In a house like this?_ **

_ You crave a safe haven and will always come back to it _ .

James hadn't expected an answer. And perhaps Abraham didn't answer, not directly. The new information made James moan even harder. And Abraham thought he was doing all the work. James went further into his mind, trying to find the moment where the Lonely dug its claws into him. 

Until a soft twinge of pleasure brought him back into himself. Abraham had a hand on his exposed cock and he was laying soft kisses on his neck. The touches were so soft and gentle James nearly jumped out of his skin. He reached out to Abraham's face, cupping his cheek gently. He looked up, eyes clear and dark.

James pulled him up suddenly and enveloped him in a kiss. With a passionate jolt, Abraham kissed back and started to thrust into James harder and faster, long, patient strokes to counter his fevered kiss.

Their breaths hitched mere seconds apart and Abraham looked into those ever-present eyes. 

"I'm close, James."

James placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Me too."

They approached their ends together, in sync, in time. 

Abraham caught his breath and immediately kissed James again. Then, he sat up, pulling out of James. He picked up the shredded remains of James' shirt and cleaned him up first, then himself. James sat up on the couch, he was going to have to wait for Abraham to bring him new clothes. 

When Abraham was fully dressed, he made his way to the door, to get clothes from his own room. He stopped before leaving, turning back to James. 

"I love you, James, you know that right?"

There was a pang of longing that came from Abraham. There was a flash of his inner mind. About their life together again. 

"I'm aware, Abraham, yes."

"Good." And he left. 

James never said it. He could never say it. The only way to combat the parasitic loneliness was to throw it back onto Abraham. He was a Lukas. He could handle a little loneliness. This is what they thrived on. 

That fact still did nothing for the pain James endured to answer like that. 

*

Painful was the correct way to describe this iteration, Jonah had noticed. Jonah thought it was painful to watch James and Abraham circle around each other, Jonah felt the pain in James' heart as he watched Abraham slowly losing his grip on life, it was painful for Jonah to watch the Lonely eat Abraham alive.

James tried to find the balance between his love for Abraham and his pity for him. He was a troubled man and James had to live through it all. 

No one bothered to tell James until it was time for the boy to be indoctrinated. Another invitation in the mail, another Lukas party where they'd flirt in public and retire together, not caring If anyone saw. That's what James expected. That's what James wanted. 

When he arrived at the party, he knew something was off. And so he reached into the manor to find Abraham. He would be able to explain everything. Except, James couldn't feel him. He couldn't feel him anywhere. 

A panic set into James' bones as his eyes darted everywhere and his tendrils snaked out for Abraham, his slice of the lonely. 

"No one told you, did they?" Simon Fairchild, a wrinkled old man that was getting more raisin-like as time went on, asked him. 

James didn't answer, he only shot a probing thought into his head. 

_ He's gone. _ Is all James heard in his mind. 

"That can't be true," James said through gritted teeth. "There's no possible way that he can be just.  _ Gone _ ."

"It might have been suicide," Simon said. " He could have whisked himself to the lonely and never want to return."

"He's not there," James said without really being sure. But a quick reach into the never-ending loneliness told him that he had been correct, Abraham Lukas was not there. At least, he wasn't where James could reach.

Fairchild shrugged.  _ It's no difference to me.  _ "The boy made a man disappear without a second thought. Maybe Abraham was vanished."

James' gaze fell to the child, Abraham's child, the next one in line. His stomach lurched as he locked eyes with him. The boy was pale and had light eyes. Something inside him, the Jonah in him, felt a pang of excitement. James felt so much dread in his stomach. "Are you sure?"

"That's why we're celebrating. A young man finally coming into his powers."

James tried to pretend as if he didn't know the child's name. Abraham had so many, how could he keep up-

**_That one is Peter_ ** . Jonah commented.

"I know that..." James muttered to himself as he went to the bar for a drink. 

**_He's going to be great for the Lonely._ ** Jonah said.  **_I can tell. There's an anger in him_ ** .

"And for us?" James said, taking a drink. He peers over his shoulder at the boy again.  _ Why did he have to choose one so  _ _ young _ _? _

**_He's not for you, James._ ** Jonah said into his ear and James felt the eyes begin to burn.  **_Your time is almost up_ ** .

James took another drink. "You can't get rid of me." There was a searing pain in the back of his head. "You need me. I'm supposed to see you through. I'm supposed to see Gertrude succeed-" James had to clamp his mouth shut, holding his mouth as he tried to scream as quietly as possible. From his eyes to his temples to the base of his spine, James felt like he was on fire.

**_I can do whatever I want, James. What did you think ever happened to those before you?_ **

James stood abruptly, knocking his glass to the ground, causing it to shatter. He felt tears come on and he immediately took off for a bathroom. He took the long way, to a hidden bathroom. So he could talk and scream and do whatever else he needed to do. 

He slammed the door and locked it. And then he let out a scream that left his throat raw and made his head seer even more. James went to the mirror to see the damage. 

The pain wasn't phantom and the tears weren't just water. Blood ran from the sockets to his chin, dripping onto his shirt, staining it beyond repair. When James blinked, it was like the whites of his eyes were dyed red. 

"Jonah stop this. We're so close." Another jolt of pain stabbed him right in the temples. He felt like a thousand pounds of pressure was hanging from them. 

**_You can be replaced. You_ ** **_will_ ** **_be replaced._ **

" _ Jonah! _ " James yelled as more blood poured from his eyes. "Jonah stop or you'll kill me! You'll kill  _ us _ !"

**_Of course, I won't._ ** Jonah cackled in his head and James could feel the vibrations as he heard the laughter in surround sound.  **_You won't die, James, you'll be suppressed. You'll be the voice in my head now._ **

James doubled over in pain, every single one of his nerves felt like they were on fire. He curled up on the ground and tried to breathe. He tried to stay attached to his body. But he could feel one by one each of his one hundred billion nerves disconnect. The pain was as sharp as a rusty knife poking at him, and then nothing at all. It was almost a relief, until his foot was completely gone. He couldn't feel his foot, he couldn't move it. He tried to curl his toes but nothing happened. 

When he lost his ankle, he saw it turning, flexing, pointing his toes even though he wasn't doing anything. He heard Jonah's laugh again, stereo and loud. 

Jonah was enjoying the pain and the fear that encompassed James. 

It wasn't long before James lost the ability to breathe, he gulped at the air, trying to force his lungs to inflate. And then he couldn't move his throat. James expected to die then, when he could no longer breathe. He couldn't feel air in his lungs. He couldn't feel anything. He couldn't move anything. 

With his last real exhale he whispered  _ Jonah _ . 

James thought he was dead. James wished he was dead. 

"Oh you will be, don't worry," Jonah said. But Jonah wasn't in his head anymore. Jonah's voice was quieter, more distant. James realized he was speaking with his throat, out loud into the air. "You'll die once I am through with this body of yours."

It was a ghoulish sight for James, seeing his legs pick themselves up and turn without his own intervention. He didn't recognize himself in the mirror. 

**_Why not swap me now?_ **

Jonah snorted as he looked into the mirror, wiping away the blood from James' face and his own eyes. "The head of the Lukas clan is a child, James, and I cannot be a child while running the institute."

**_You don't need to be the same age as the head of this family._ **

"Actually, it's easier to do business when you're the same age. You understand each other better." Jonah looked at the bloodstains on his shirt and pouted, licking his fingers and rubbing it in.

**_He's not Mordecai._ **

Jonah's eyes snapped up and he glared at his reflection. "And Abraham had his son kill him because he didn't want to feel lonely anymore.  _ You _ couldn't alleviate his pain  _ and _ he's a traitor to his family and Patron."

James started to scream in Jonah's ear. He only got a few seconds before Jonah was able to turn the volume down. 

"I regret giving you as much time as I did. You're ungrateful. You could have had so much more." Jonah rolled down the shirt sleeves and folded down the collar. "We'll have to change this up a bit. You've always had a shit fashion sense."

*

Peter saw that man that night, those piercing blue eyes peering into him in a way he had never felt before. And he hated him for it. He hated being seen so fully. He tried for a moment to send him away, to make this man disappear. Someone else was gone in that instant. But it wasn't the strange man who now had his back to him. 

When the glass shattered, Peter saw the man running away. When the man returned, he noticed the difference in posture and the calm, uncaring expression on his face. Peter tried for the rest of the night to send him away. 

Peter disappeared before he could watch them all leave. He couldn't handle being around so many people. He couldn't stand the heat of the bodies and the noise. The drilling shrill of unfamiliar voices. It was all so much. He left to his room, or at least what he thought was his room. Peter ended up in the wide expanse of the Lonely, wandering and soaking in the utter silence. 

From that night on, Peter refused most Lukas tradition, only using his name for the money attached to it. He would entertain an obligation or two just so he could keep his purse full. 

A James faced Jonah actually met with a young Peter. He called Peter for a few business meetings, that Peter refused to dress properly for, just a small chat with the Archive's donor. Jonah watched him from the moment he walked in. The tape recorders around the archives made things a lot easier as well. 

Peter was comfortable in the archives from the start. It was a spacious building. He rarely saw a soul. 

"It was made that way," Jonah-James said. "For the comfort of the Lukas family. Our founder wanted them to feel at home here as well."

Peter looked towards the door. "Would you mind if I took a stroll through?" He asked. "If I'm going to be single-handedly funding this place I'd like to see it all." 

"Of course," Jonah came around the side of the desk in order to follow him out. Peter raised a hand. 

"Alone."

Jonah sneered with James' lips. "Don't get lost, Mr. Lukas. You're not my  _ only _ donor."

Peter gave him an uncaring look as he waved Jonah away. Not literally, of course. Peter couldn't send Jonah away. No matter how many times a day he tried. 

He was gone in an instant, either ignoring the door or ignoring walls altogether and starting from an unknown location. 

It took Jonah an hour to find him and was convinced that Peter was trying to avoid him the moment he did. Tapes were loud, clicking and tape reels. It scared him off most of the time. Sounds of footsteps against dirt floors were the most he'd get before the shifting silence of Peter Vanishing away from his watchful eye. 

It was only when he caught Peter's voice on a tape. Jonah's eyes stopped in a second and all converged to one tape. Peter was talking. And he was talking to  _ someone. _

  
  


"I have  _ several _ boats. You could come with me, if you'd like. On the wide expanse of ocean. No one around. Just  _ us _ ."

"Mr. Lukas, are you suggesting that I run away from my  _ very _ important  _ filing _ business to go play with you on your boat?"

"Why do we have to wait for the boat?"

Jonah knew the other voice as soon as he heard it. Elias Bouchard was a filing clerk that had been hiding in the archives for years. He was less than a model employee and was lucky the UK didn't have the same new drug testing requirements as anywhere else in the world. And yet, he had soft blond hair and light brown eyes. All under the umbrella of him being  _ young _ .

Jonah had never felt old before listening in on these two. They talked openly about their sexual habits in such explicit terms, they talked about drugs and life, and Jonah truly felt like his time was fading away before him. They were so free. 

The two of them didn't even make it to a supply closet before they were all over each other. 

From then on, whenever Peter docked into London, there was an invitation in the mail to have him visit the institute. Sometimes he'd come, and others he'd ignore it. Though, every time he made it to the Institute, he made sure to stop by his favorite filing clerk. 

Jonah made the switch in 1991. He waited to see if Peter's tastes changed, or Elias'. They were a steady affair for longer than either of them would probably care to admit. 

He came to Elias after the most recent fling. Elias was whistling as he worked, a joyful tune in his chest. Jonah was quiet as he approached, giving Elias a near heart attack. 

"Elias, my dear boy, how have you been?"

Elias went weak in the knees. He had only met James in passing and never more than a morning greeting. "I-I've been great, Mr. Wright. Thank you. A-And you?" Elias' hands were shaking as they clutched his files to his chest. 

"I've been well," Jonah said. 

Elias nodded and waited for anything else to come from James. But nothing did. 

"Can I help you with finding anything, Mr. Wright? C-Cause I've got to-"

"Have you been engaging in inappropriate acts on our campus, Elias?" Jonah asked simply. 

Elias went white as a ghost. A list of wrongdoings ran like a scroll in his mind and broadcasted into Jonah's.

"Mr. Wright-"

"That's right, you were off the days that the new security systems were installed. Well then. I must assume you didn't know."

Elias' eyes moved slowly from James' face to the corner of the room where he saw a tiny flashing red light. 

The papers in his hand fell to the floor as he pressed his palms together, going into a begging stance. "Mr. Wright please don't fire me, I need this job, this is the first job I've been able to keep and I really like the work. I'll be on time from now on and not smoke inside or have s-"

Jonah raised a hand to silence him. "Don't you worry about all that, Elias. I'm here in regards to a very specific act."

Elias let his hands fall to the side. "You're not going to fire me?"

Jonah reaches out and squeezed Elias' shoulder. 

"Quite the opposite, actually."

Elias took most of the news rather well. He understood that the statements were real, all of it was real. He had always secretly hoped they were and was delighted to know it had been true. The matter of Peter Lukas, and the arrangement the Beholding had with the Lonely, was a little worse for him. 

_ I've fucked a fear avatar?! _

**_He has no idea what he's doing, Jonah._ **

"And you're talking to one now." Jonah offered to calm him down. 

There was panic in Elias' eyes. "No shit,"

Jonah sighed.  **_Ha! He's an idiot._ **

"Yes, Elias. It's true. And it's almost time for me to… have a renewal of sorts. I was hoping that you might be interested in the position." Jonah pressed. 

Elias thought for a second. "Does it come with a raise?"

"You'd be the head of the institute."

"Oh shit, that's your job!"

**_This isn't going to be easy, Jonah_ ** .

"It'll be easier in the end," Jonah muttered to himself. 

Jonah managed to explain to Elias that there was a little more to the job than sitting in an office. Jonah was able to pitch the perfect promotion, offering Elias great knowledge and immortality, offering a chance to rule the world. Jonah would just need to replace his eyes. 

"I… I don't know, Mr. Wright… I'm not sure about… all of this."

Jonah stood on his borrowed legs and came around his desk to slide a hand across Elias' shoulders.  _ Nice and broad.  _ "Elias, dear, think about it. You'll have a purpose and you'll have  _ power _ . When was the last time you had power over anything? Anyone?"

"I guess…" 

Jonah could feel his resistance. His least favorite thought was the vague, misunderstanding of a person. All Jonah could hear from Elias was  _ Peter, Peter, Peter.  _

"He'll love you all the same," Jonah said in Elias' ear. He went red as he looked up at James. "It won't make any difference to him. He'll still love you as much as a Lukas could possibly love."

_ A Lukas? _

"And you think the sex is good now? Wait until you're both surging with power."

"Really?"

" **Yes** ." Jonah coughed up the single word with James' voice. It tasted like expensive brandy, like the type Abraham would give to James. 

Jonah took Elias' chin and made him look up at him. "So? What do you say? Do you want to be a g-d?"

Elias looked away for a millisecond before locking onto Jonah's eyes completely. 

"Yes." 

Their melding was more seamless than anything else Jonah had experienced. He didn't have to pluck Elias out completely in order to take control. He guesses it was due to half of Elias' brain cells being dead. 

"You really have smoked too much cannabis, Elias dear."

**_No such thing._ ** Elias said back. 

The motor functions were shared, the vocal cords were also shared. Jonah slipped into the role of Elias well, like a second skin, or a well-tailored suit. Elias fit well. Elias fit right. 

Elias himself had the eyes attached to James Wright's body lying limp on the ground like dirty work clothes after a long day. 

"What happened to James?" He asked. 

**_He got too noisy. I had to get rid of him_ ** . Jonah replied.  **_I won't have to worry about you doing the same, will?_ **

"Not at all." 

  
  


*

The next time Peter docked in London there was another invitation sent under the vague name of "The Head Of The Magnus Institute."

He rolled his eyes at the handwritten cursive and almost didn't go. Almost. 

Peter waited through the entirety of the Institute looking for Elias before his meeting with the Head.

_ I'll have to find him later _ . A thought which echoed throughout the halls. 

Peter didn't even bother to knock on the door before crashing in. 

"Wright, I don't have time to be on your beck and call every time I'm here. I have work and-"

He noticed the blonde first. James was a brunette. And then he saw the stature, shaped more like a triangle than a rectangle. Broad shoulders and stick-thin legs. A silhouette he recognized. Instead of the normal tattered slacks and wrinkled dress shirt, he was in a pressed and tailored suit. His hair that could never lay flat was gelled to death to the top of his skull. 

"You're not..."

"Surprise." Elias and Jonah said in sync with each other. It was paired with a sly grin, slightly crooked, slightly more Elias than Jonah. 

Peter blinked, looking Elias up and down, drinking in every last drop. "Head of the institute?"

"A lot of things have changed since you've last been here."

There was an uneasiness in Peter. He was thinking too hard and his face was too serious. 

"I…. You haven't always had blue eyes, Elias," Peter said. His voice a growl and anger in his eyes. 

Jonah groaned and rolled his eyes. "Have you really remembered the file boy's eye color? I thought you barely looked at anything that wasn't his arse."

Peter charged at him then, shoving him against the back wall of the office. "What the  _ fuck  _ have you done with him?" Jonah was pressed against the wall by his neck, Peter's forearm against his throat. 

"I'm still here, Peter," Elias managed to get out. Suddenly, he could breathe again. Peter had backed off. 

"You're going to tell me exactly what's going on, Wright," Peter stated. 

Jonah rolled his eyes. "Then we're going to have to correct  _ that _ . If you had done what your family wanted of you, maybe this wouldn't come off as such a shock." He said, Jonah cleared his throat and straightened out his tie and his suit, he reached a hand out. "Jonah Magnus, it's good to finally make your acquaintance."

Peter did not take his hand. "What does my family have to do with any of this?" There was a question in his voice but not in his mind. 

"Really now, Peter, you're smart, you have to be," Jonah said. " It's always been me at the head of this institute and your family has always kept the lights on. The Lonely and the Beholding have always had a very close relationship, thanks to me and your great-grandfather."

Peter's face corkscrewed into disgust. "My great-grandfather? Really?" 

Jonah shrugged. "He came on to me."

"And my family just went with this? Fucking the Beholding? One after the other?"

"Don't say it like that. I'm not a common whore-"

"Your Victorian Dandy is slipping out."

Jonah glares at him. "Normally the one who had the greatest connection to the Lonely would… I would hold up my end of the bargain."

"You sure you're not a common whore?" Peter asked. "Because it's starting to sound like you just like fucking the men in my family."

Jonah glared at Peter. "They all had a Lukas family charm that you seem to be lacking."

"It's hard to be charming to a soul-sucking voyeur like you."

"As if you're the one to talk. You delight in talking about your latest Lonely creation. How is the  _ Tundra _ fairing?"

"Fuck off."

Jonah thought for a moment. "Oh, and maybe I should let Elias know your real intentions? Huh?"

**_Real intentions?_ **

Peter looked down and away. There was shame on his face and dread in Elias' stomach. 

"You made him fall for you, you made him love you so much just so you can feed off that lonely feeling he got when you left. Or when you're away. I'm not sure you can throw stones in glass houses, Peter."

Jonah smirked with Elias' lips before it melted away. Elias looked at a guilty-looking Peter. He kept the posture Jonah had given him. 

"Peter," Elias used his voice softly, not pointed and cruel like Jonah. "It's all true, isn't it?" 

Peter straightened his back and lifted his eyes to Elias. "It is. You were just a human, you were-"

"A plaything, a source of fear and tragedy." Elias finished the sentence. He could hear Peter's thoughts before they actually formed into words. Elias could hear the reverberating mixed emotions coming from Peter's mind. "Well then. You couldn't have known what I would become. But I think we should keep our relationship… professional from now on. You know, strictly business."

There was a grin on Peter's face and the look in his eye, those light lonely eyes, that made Jonah's heart jump and lit a fire in Elias.  **_He has Mordecai's eyes._ **

Peter moved first towards Elias. He cupped his cheeks in his cold hands and kissed Elias with a softness that made his head spin. There was always a passion, a pressing, a rush. But this was different. There were tears burning in Jonah's eyes. And an ache in Elias' heart made him return the kiss with a needy moan. 

Elias started to peel away his suit, layer by layer, carefully. Peter, with his calloused hands, pushed and shoved the fabric away and off. He removed both of their top halves in record time. Peter wanted to touch Elias and he was overdue this visit. 

Elias wrapped his arms around his neck the moment he was free, pulling Peter close enough so that he could kiss at his jaw at the throat. Elias tried biting him, tried leaving marks. He loved to sink his teeth into him, and Peter liked to feel him try. Though, they were in a position now, where their roles are equal. 

"Darling, your neck is going to be purple for a week." Elias murmured against his skin. 

Peter grabbed onto Elias' ass and pulled their hips together. "Why settle for a week? Use some of that Patron strength."

Elias bit harder and Peter grunted into his ear. He pulled them as close as he possibly could while they each still had their pants on. And the friction just wasn't enough. 

"Peter," Elias moaned out, lacing his fingers into his hair and pulling. "Just take them off." 

"Bossy," Peter mumbled with delight, fumbling with both their belts.

"Always have been," Elias said. "I know what I want."

Peter sheds the rest of their clothes and pulled Elias forward again by his thighs. "Have you always wanted to be bent over your bosses desk?" He said, pushing him against the mahogany.

"Fuck yes," Elias said before Peter flipped him and bent him over the edge of the desk. 

**_Have you really?_ ** Jonah answered his own question by seeing into Elias' memories and discovering exactly how he got fired from his last job.

*

Elias thought that would be his life, as an Avatar. He'd have power, he'd have knowledge, he'd have Peter. He assumed it would be easy to love and work and serve the beholding. And then he learned about the watcher's crown. He learned what it really was to be an avatar. 

Elias was sober. Elias was painfully aware of every single action he took. Elias' eyes were open for the first time. Seeing the world as it truly was shifted his world view. Elias was happy to be on the top of the food chain, finally. He could feel himself, grow and mature. For the first time, he felt like he might know what he was doing, what needed to be done. He looked at his past self with disgust. 

When he watched Gertrude Robinson foil ritual after ritual, getting dangerously close to his own. 

And then there was The Silence. A horribly obvious name for a Ritual and an entirely frustrating ordeal. It was so impossibly perfect for Peter, so easy with all his money, it made money. 

It was desperate and Jonah recognized that in him. 

"We have to tip Gertrude off," Elias muttered to himself in his empty office.

**_I know_ ** . 

They both stared into nothingness and tried to think of a way around it. Elias closes his eyes to see the world around him unfold before him, going through each possibility, each option. 

**_He can't beat us to a ritual_ ** .

"I know."

**_This is the end game, Elias._ **

"I know." 

**_This has always been for the eye_ ** .

"I know." Elias rolled his lip between his teeth. "Is there a way… to have both?" 

**_You think we'd be here if there was a way to have both?_ **

"Fine then."

Elias told Gertrude about the luxury apartments and how  _ isolating _ they can be. Gertrude told a newspaper about the misery. They had never felt the complete upheaval of a ritual with such an impact before. The sudden good-natured cheer that came from the building almost gave Elias second-hand rejection. 

Elias was watching the news when the story broke on air, the tv showing the horrid conditions of these tiny grey rooms that mimicked a home. Peter came crashing into his office, weak and sick to his stomach. He stumbled over to Elias in his desk chair. 

Peter buried his face in Elias' lap, gripping his back like it was his lifeline. Elias had his fingers in his hair and tried not to think about how he caused this. 

"I'm a failure," Peter said into Elias' stomach. "I'm a shit avatar and a shit Lukas. I can't do anything right."

Elias continued to stroke his hair and sooth him that way. He tried not to say anything too drastic. 

"All rituals have failed to this point, love. All rituals are bound to fail." He assured. 

"You're the one right thing about this all."

**_No_ ** .

"You're the only thing that makes sense." 

**_He sounds like his father_ ** .

"Marry me."

Jonah almost spit up a yes immediately. Elias could feel that this was everything Jonah had ever wanted. Elias wasn't like that though. Elias never craved marriage, not in his younger years, not now. His youth was spent fighting to just be seen. He doesn't need a government’s approval. And a promise before g-d was laughable to him. What g-d?

"We can't be married here, the crown doesn't allow it."

"Then we'll go to the states."

"I can't go too far from the archives."

"Then you'll bring statements."

"Peter-"

"Elias please," Peter looked up then, desperate eyes of a desperate man looked up at him and Elias felt deja vu from a life not even his. "Please let me do something right. Let me marry a person so much better than me. Let me give you everything you deserve. Let me do something right, Elias."

Elias sat there with Peter looking up at him. Elias looked back and he really tried to feel the soft hair underneath his fingers and really look at the pleading eyes under him. Elias tried not to see the fog in those eyes or the light mist trailing from the open mouth. Elias tried to see him with his thick dark hair and scruffy beard. Elias tried to feel young again. He tried to feel mortal again. He tried to feel like that 20 something falling in love with a sea captain. 

"Alright then, I'll marry you."

*

It wasn't a legal wedding of course, but they did have rings and they did have a witness. The Eye was watching the entire time. They whispered sweet vows to each other, promising the world to each other. Peter promised everything to Elias. A devotion that Elias had never felt and Peter had never given. 

Peter paid for the rings. He picked out a gold band, simple and elegant.  _ I thought the both of you might like it.  _

Elias said a silver ring would look better on the sea, and match his cool color palette.  _ Whatever you think is best, love.  _

  
  


Being involved with someone can be just as lonely as being alone, Peter learned. Their love can be so lonely. Their attention can burn into you and feel red hot like embers burning into your skin. Except you're drunk so you don't feel it until your bone is exposed. 

  
  


That's what it was like for Peter, to love Elias, to be married to Elias. A sizzling pain with every touch and every sideways glance his way. As a Lukas, he had always had a talent for making sex a lonely experience. It's how his family continued on. The avatar in him hated this g-d, of all the ones to love, it had to be the Watcher, the one that forced him to be known. The human part of him, no matter how small and distant, reveled in the fact that Elias knew all of him. The man behind the avatar loves being known completely.

The avatar in him loves Elias specifically. His love is sharp and isolating. When Peter is in London all he wants is to be with Elias. Elias will make the world disappear. There is no contact with the world outside of their love. 

Peter liked to think about their lives if they were human. If they were allowed to just live. They wouldn't have met, of course. But it was a nice thought to have. 

Together, if they were humans, Elias would be jealous. Elias would be overbearing. Elias would want him all to himself. Peter could taste the delicious isolation. Elias would hold him hostage, they could only see his friends. Elias doesn't see his parents so neither would Peter. Elias would be all the people Peter would need. 

And in fact, it might be true of their life now. Peter wasn't attached to people, never really needed their help or company. 

Peter always thought that was his family right in him. That the addiction to the Lonely was hereditary like most things. And what better lord for the rich than loneliness. Money was isolating. Being nannied, being tutored, being kept from those below you, community is unattainable. The human half of Peter was stubborn though, it must be for the line to survive. Human nature clawed for companionship at least a little. 

He craved companionship in the way an alcoholic craves their poison, knowing that it was bad for them, knowing it will rot them from the inside out. 

Elias made him rot from the want of companionship. It really was a vice for the Lonely.

Of course, Elias didn't mean to be so poisonous. It was just the nature of him to demand affection from the man he supposedly married. If he was going to be  _ married _ he wanted his  _ husband  _ to act like it. He wanted his husband to be utterly devoted to him. 

But because of the nature of Peter, they didn't stay married, if you could argue that they ever were. Elias flippantly asked for a divorce one evening over the phone. Peter was refusing a budget increase for the institute.

"No, we never signed a prenup. You'll ruin me." 

"So you'll be ruined. What is it to me?"

Nothing was signed, nothing was ever signed. They were married but never married all at once at any given moment.

*

Jonah breathed as he thought through these repercussions. When he started this with Gertrude, he didn't love the Lonely. He didn't love Abraham the way James did. It was easy to watch him fall apart. But now, with Peter, Jonah felt renewed. 

**_Servant to the eye, first and foremost._ ** Jonah heard echoing through his head. It wasn’t Elias. But maybe a ghost from a far off version of himself, pledging his devotion to the Eye.

And that's how he allowed it to happen. The deal, for his Archivist to be marked for the Lonely. This wasn't really a hard decision when he looked at it that way. This was always meant to happen, this was what he had planned to happen. He was so close to something so extraordinary. Something no one had ever done before. This was always the plan. 

**_It doesn't hurt any less_ ** . Elias said into Jonah's ear.

"I know."

Elias watched the whole time through Jon, who always kept his tape recorder going. Jonah saw Jon compel. Elias' stomach dropped immediately. Peter was too stubborn. Jon was too powerful. 

He knew the end of the world would be the end of everything else. He knew that. But he didn't know he'd care about anything in this world when he made the pack to try and end it.

Peter died without children or without a next of kin. Elias wasn’t sure if they were married since it all became legal. He also wasn’t sure if they had gotten a divorce within that time either. Of course, it didn't matter. In this new world family, ties and old money won't matter. In this new world, there will be nothing but knowledge. Nothing but the eye and the Beholding. 

Elias waited a few weeks for Jon to get his strength up before sending him Jonah’s statement. He wanted the lonely’s scar to be completely healed before tearing Jon open completely.

Jonah gazed at the golden band around his finger as he heard the echo of Jon's voice filled his ears. The last thing his mortal eyes saw was the ring melt under the heat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you liked this! I have so many other fics! I have 2 other TMA fic and I have 11 adventure zones! I also have a Good Omens fic, two Penumbra Podcast fics, Yuri!!! On Ice, Voltron, Miraculous Ladybug, RWBY, Gravity Falls, Star Wars, and Kingsmen fics! Go read those if you're interested! Thank you so much again!


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